


Advice from the Dwarrow Queen

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Diplomatic Relations, Discussions of sex, Drabbles, F/M, Female Friendship, Fígrid Febuary, Hen Nights/Bridal Parties, I should research what the real term is but I am lazy I am so sorry this is a drabble, Movie Time Line, Northerners don't have time for your Southern Nonsense, diplomatic missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Éowyn's wedding to Faramir, the women of the nearby kingdoms come to offer her advice on what to expect in the marriage bed. </p><p>This includes Queen Sigrid of Erebor, now well into her eightieth year, she offers some interesting advice to the bride to be, and indeed, the existing wives of Gondor. </p><p>After all, a girl from the docks who marries a dwarf has little patience for high class nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice from the Dwarrow Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on the Bus into Uni, so it's not exactly well researched. 
> 
> I'm primarily a Hobbit writer so I am more knowledgeable about Erebor/Mirkwood/Dale/Lake Town than I am about Gondor and Rohan. Still, hopefully it doesn't detract from it too much =)
> 
> Possibly the WEAKEST link to today's Fígrid Febuary theme of "Diplomatic Missions"; and indeed to Fígrid! But as the co-organiser of the event I feel like I am allowed SOME leeway, so to speak.

The wedding of The Lady Éowyn, slayer of the Witch King, to Prince Faramir, the newly appointed Steward of Gondor, had been eagerly awaited by all the kingdoms. The coronation of King Elessar and his marriage to Queen Arwen had come so soon after the end of the battle that many people were still busy trying to stitch their lives back together and bury their dead. Indeed, Erebor had only been able to send a small envoy with Gimli as their leader; for they had to prepare the funerals of King Thorin Oakenshield, may he feast forever in the halls of Mahal, and King Bain of Dale, may he feast in the halls of his forefathers. Not to mention the coronations of their retrospective heirs.  
  
Thus the wedding of these two famous Lovers was to be the first to attract the attention of all Kingdoms. As such, Éowyn's Bridal Party was attended by a curious mix of dignities. Perhaps the most curious of which was the Dwarven Queen, whose own tale of romance was as well known as Éowyn's. For who would have suspected that the daughter of a bargeman turned dragon slayer would end up married to a Dwarven Prince?  
  
She had lived through both the battle if the five armies and the war of the ring, and Faramir was fascinated as to all the stories she would have to tell. "Make sure to ask her about life under the Master on the long lake! All the records of that time were destroyed and I'd love to hear a first hand response of it!" He'd said eagerly the day before, when their chaperones had allowed them to escape a moment to take a turn about the garden.  
  
"I am meant to be asking about all that is to occur on our wedding night, not the history of their people!" She laughed  
  
"Well, I figured you already knew all there was to know on that matter," he grinned slyly "Or have you been keeping secrets from me as well?"  
  
"I don't think I could if I tried. You are far too good an interrogator, however I am expected to keep up the pretence."  
  
"And when our child is born at six months? What will they say then?”  
  
"Then the Valar be praised that they are so strong and healthy." She grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek. "But I too am eager to meet her, so I shall report back on everything. Though I hope you can wait a little while until after our wedding night."  
  
"Oh at least a week. If not more." He grinned ruefully  
  
*  
  
The day before their wedding would begin with a welcoming ceremony over a feast before the parties would split and the men would prepare Faramir (read: do their best to get him as drunk as possible) and the woman would spend the evening advising Éowyn on her role as a new bride (read: giggling and swapping stories of their own experiences).  
  
The Dwarrow Queen stood out against all their guests. With her snow white hair and heavily lined face, to the unknown eye, she would appear to be the eldest of all those assembled today; though the beautiful Queen Arwen won that award by a thousand years or more, with Lady Dís taking a close second.  
  
Indeed, upon greeting the Royal Family of Erebor most assumed that it was Sigrid who was King Fíli's mother and Dís who was his wife. They all wore the same exasperated expressions of those who have had often had to to put up with this mistake.  


Of course, when seeing them interact together there was no way that anyone could mistake their affection between Fíli and Sigrid as anything other than romantic. Their small touches and shared smiles showed their love to be as strong as ever, and when with her husband Queen Sigrid seemed as though she had not aged a day these past sixty years.  
  
Éowyn and Sigrid had not had a chance to speak properly before the bridal party; however it would prove to be a night Éowyn would not forget in a hurry.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure what we're meant to be doing here tonight, since it looks as though the horse has truly bolted." Said the Dwarven Queen, in heavily accented Rohirric, looking at Éowyn's belly. "Though having now met your betrothed I can see why." The ladies from Rohan all burst into fits of laughter, much to the confusion of the other assembled guests.  
  
Éowyn was completely taken off guard by the comment. "Wait, you speak Rohirric?" She responded in like  
  
"My mother was of the Rohirrim. She grew up in the Westfold. I hear the village was burnt down by Orcs during the war, but I still consider it as much my home as Lake Town was." She smiled sweetly and patted Éowyn's hand. "You have done the people of Rohan a great service, my lady, we are all very proud of you." She added, switching back to Westron.  
  
"Why thank you your Majesty." She bowed her head, slightly sheepishly. She'd ridden out with the view to die in the name of her country and kin; the fact that she'd bought glory for them had been entirely accidental.  
  
"Oh just call me Sigrid, we're amongst friends and kin, I am too old to be dealing with all this nonsense."  
  
" _You're_ too old!" Huffed her mother-in-law "How do you think _I_ feel?"  
  
"Well I am much older than you, 'Amad. Have you not heard?" She raised an eyebrow "I am meant to have died several decades ago according to some of the Dwarf Lords."  
  
"And they know full well I'd kill them if I ever heard them say such things again." Said Dís sternly, a fire glowing in her eyes.  
  
"And I thank you 'Amad."  
  
"It is funny that so many of question your ages, where as I am married to a man young enough to be my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson." Said Queen Arwen demurely and everyone giggled again; though a few of the Gondorians shared nervous glances. Were they allowed to laugh at that? After all, their queen was the niece of Elros Half-Elven, the first King of the Númenor and the great-great-and-so-on-grandfather of the King....   
  
"Anyway, I thought we were here to prepare our bride for the horrors of her wedding night." Said Dís with a sly smile  
  
"Well if it's a horror then you'll probably better off without him." Shrugged Hild. Her and Morwen were the only companions of Éowyn’s from Edoras who’d made the journey to Ithilien with her.  
  
"I'm sure the Prince will do right by you, my Lady." Smiled Lady Elenath, the wife of one of the richest Lords in Gondor.  
  
"Yes, sometimes it is best simply to, well, as they say 'lie back and think of the white tree’'"  
  
"The white tree? Is that what you people call it?" Said Sigrid raising an eyebrow "In Lake Town we used to call it his ‘Spare Oar’"  
  
"In my day it was, well the translation would be his 'Mountain Shaft'." Mused Dís "What do the elves call it? My other daughter-in-law eloped before we could have our own party you see. Back now, of course. I wasn't going to let my brother be that obtuse for so long, but still. I'd have liked the opportunity to question her."    
  
"Well," mused Arwen "I did once read a poem referencing Beren's 'Mighty length of mortal passions'. Though I do not think it is a popular phrase." A small smirk spread across her face at the slightly distraught looks from her subjects, who had clearly not been expecting the night to go as this.  
  
"In Rohan we just call it his penis." Shrugged Hild  
  
"Aye, we breed horses. Once you've seen a stallion mount three mares in one afternoon, there's not much space left for poetry." agreed Morwen  
  
"Though you've got to make sure he doesn't treat you like one of those mares, my lady. One quick pop and off he goes."  
  
"Make him work for it."  
  
"And no pretending!"  
  
"Oh never pretend." Said Sigrid seriously "You don't want to base a relationship on lies."  
  
"You've never pretended!" Said a Gondorian "I always do with my husband."  
  
"Why on earth would you do that?" Frowned Dís  
  
"Well, I mean, I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings..." She shuffled in her seat awkwardly and Éowyn felt pity towards the woman. Faramir was a more than dutiful lover, and she could not see a time when she would ever need to pretend.  
  
"Listen," said Sigrid, seriously, "The one time I pretended, well, he'd been so tired and busy with all the Preparations for Durin's Day that I didn't want him to feel bad about anything."  
  
"What happened?" Asked Éowyn curiously  
  
"He realised straight away and refused to speak to me for a week." She shrugged  
  
"Well, I'm glad to hear my son is doing right by you." Nodded Dís "Though the five children did give it away somewhat."  
  
"He still does." she grinned, without the common decency to look embarrassed. A combination of age and life amongst the Dwarrow making her immune to such simple emotions.  
  
"At your age?" Said Éowyn, slightly shocked. She'd always pinned sex down as something only for the young.  
  
"Well, we might not be as energetic as we once were, so to speak, but yes. We keep each other happy. My husband is still a young man by Dwarven standards." A faint smile came across her face "I plan to give him as many happy memories to keep him going when I am passed." The room stood silent for a moment. It was true, King Fíli was still very much in the prime of his life, whilst it was surprising that a daughter of man had lived to see her eightieth year. With a slight pang, Éowyn remembered Faramir's connection to the elves. He would live far longer than she would, and indeed, would age slower as well. How many of his years would he be forced to spend alone?  
  
Of course this was nothing compared to Queen Arwen, but then mortality had been her choice to make. As much as falling in love could be a choice. For Arwen meeting the Dwarven Queen was just as interesting as it was for Éowyn, as it gave her an insight into what her life with Estel might be like in the future. Rather than sadness though, she found reassurance in Sigrid's jovial spirit and the way in which the love held in her husband's eyes was still as bright as ever it could be. Plus there had been children, some of whom she’d met that night, though the eldest was only just of age by Dwarrow standards. Each seemed to bring new happiness into the lives of their parents, and Arwen prayed that they too would conceive soon; just as she knew Éowyn already had, even if she’d not publicly announced it. It seemed that Éowyn could not tell a convincing lie if her life depended on it, and her husband needed to learn not to let his thoughts wonder so freely when there were other mind readers in the room. His visions had caused her to spit out her drink on more than one occasion-- making it very hard to look either of them in the eye.  
  
"Enough of this lamenting over death, we are here to celebrate life, are we not?" Smiled Sigrid, clapping her withered hands together. "At my Bridal Party we swapped stories of our first sexual experiences. Age order I think." She turned to grin broadly at Arwen who flushed bright pink. This was really not the way of the elves! But, if Sigrid could adapt to the way or the dwarves; and indeed if Tauriel of the Woodland Realm could-- well then she could adapt to the ways of man. And so it seemed, could the Gondorians adapt to the ways of the wild ruffians of the North. Many of whom learnt a great deal about activities the bedroom that night, and would be having words with their husbands in the morning.  
  
*  
  
"How was your bridal party in the end, my love?" Asked Faramir, curled up next to Éowyn. They'd been married for nearly two weeks and he was still bewildered by the fact was allowed to wake up next to her every morning.  
  
"It was good fun." She yawned  
  
"Learn anything interesting?"  
  
"Oh many things. Though not the kind of history you were probably looking for."  
  
"Oh?" Said Faramir, raising an eyebrow  
  
"Let us say that the men of Gondor have a lot to answer for when it comes to pleasing their wives." She grinned shrewdly "And that what they say about the stamina of dwarves is completely true. The Dwarven Queen is a very lucky woman."  
  
"Well then." Grinned Faramir, rolling her onto her back. "It seems I must state the case for the men of Gondor." He began to kiss a line down her neck and Éowyn let out a laugh that quickly turned into a groan.  
  
Back in Erebor, King Fíli was once again praising Mahal for gifting him such an amazing wife. "How did the bridal party go, I never asked?"  
  
"Wonderful. We were able to turn what was to be a truly awful Gondorian Talk of allowing men to take their pleasure whilst you thought of your Great Nation, to a party worthy of a Rider of Rohan." She beamed  
  
"So you talked about me then." He grinned that youthful smile Sigrid had fallen in love with all those years ago.  
  
"Of course. Told them that you were an absolute gentlemen. A true hot blooded Stallion, sorry, Ram, of a dwarf. Told them we were still at it like rabbits."  
  
He chuckled fondly. "That's my queen. Always the shrewd diplomat."  
  
"Well, we have to give that boy of hers something to live up to. Got to set the standard high for these Gondorians. Especially after some if the stories their wives told me." She tutted disapprovingly "All those years and only able to reach their peak once or twice? Not on my watch."  
  
Fíli gave out a full belly laugh at that "Have you been teaching sex tips to those poor southerners? Whatever will they think of us!"  
  
"I'm old, northern and dwarven, I can say what I want." She pouted "Allow me that at least."  
  
"Whatever you desire Ghivashelê." He kissed the top of her head and she gave out loud yawn  
  
"Sorry Amrâlimê. I'm tired, I think I'll go back to sleep if it's all the same to you."  
  
"Of course my love. Whatever you wish."  
  
He lay there watching the slightly erratic rise and fall of each breath she took. He knew a time would come when they would eventually be parted until the remaking of the world, but he prayed each day that it would be held off as long as possible. 


End file.
